


Memorial

by hoku_mahina



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Captain America Sam Wilson, Closure, Dialogue Heavy, Happy Memorial Day, Post-Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Post-Endgame, Sad and Sweet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-27
Updated: 2019-05-27
Packaged: 2020-03-20 08:43:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,286
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18989203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoku_mahina/pseuds/hoku_mahina
Summary: A lot has happened over the past two - no, seven - years. It's time for Sam to visit the Arlington National Cemetery and catch up with his best friend.For Memorial Day





	Memorial

On a breezy May day with a true blue sky, Arlington National Cemetery was a sight to behold. Perhaps it was ironic that a place memorializing loss could be so beautiful, but Sam had always found it fitting. The people buried here had sacrificed their lives for their country, and they deserved to have their white headstones gleam proudly under the sun while birds flew between the leafy trees overhead.The cemetery may contain over two hundred years of painful memories, but it allowed one to find peace amidst the grief. 

Sam did his best to let the sense of peace and new life settle him. He had walked this path a dozen times, on his best days and his worst, but it was hard to let the familiarity comfort him this time when so much had changed. Just two sections over atop a hill sat the Decimation Memorial. The monument was designed to resemble a globe perched on a pedestal, but instead of showing topography, the names of every soldier and veteran known to have been lost to the Decimation was etched into the dark brown stone. 

Sam’s name was on that rock.

Now that everyone had returned, the monument had been renamed “The Decimation Memorial: Those Lost and Found.” It wasn’t much of an improvement in eloquence, but it made him feel less like a dead man walking.

He still had no intention of going to look at it. His purpose here was an old one: he had a friend to catch up with.

When he made it to Riley’s gravesite, he took a long breath of the sweet summer air before straightening the little wreath someone had placed on the headstone. Then he sat down in the grass and pulled two cans of soda out of his backpack. One he opened for himself. The other he placed next to the wreath. It was Riley’s favorite flavor.

“Hey Rye,” Sam said. “I’m sorry it’s been so long. A lot of weird shit has gone down over the past few… well I guess more than a few years. You would probably say that’s a lame excuse, but I promise you - life has been crazy, and I would have been here a lot more if I’d had the chance.”

He took a gulp of his soda. It wasn’t cold anymore, but the sugary sweetness took him back to hundreds of nights spent like this, sitting beside Riley and talking through everything they had seen. He was achingly aware of the lack of Riley’s physical presence, but the nostalgia brought a smile to his face.

“Where do I start with this one? The last time I was here was… damn, over seven years ago. Feels like two and half for me, but I’ll get to that. Basically, the Accords I told you about last time didn’t technically go into effect, ‘cause the Avengers ended up going to war over them. It was really more about personal issues: Tony felt guilty, and somehow this evil mastermind managed to set the whole thing up and used Steve’s old best friend Bucky - the one we were tracking for two years, I told you about that - as bait. People got hurt. Those of us that didn’t sign the Accords became fugitives. I was lucky to be able to stay with Steve afterwards.”

A butterfly danced in front of him for a moment before landing on Riley’s wreath. It’s winds opened and closed slowly, like a measured inhale and exhale. In the distance, a child laughed, and music was playing. Sam took another drink.

“We were on the run for two years. Sort of. Natasha -” his words lodged in his throat as grief constricted his lungs. He stared at the butterfly and tried to match his breathing to the shifting of its wings. It flew away before he was ready. He took a sip of the soda, and the nostalgia was more bitter than sweet this time.

“I’ve told you about Natasha before. The Black Widow. But God, she was so much more than that, Rye. She met up with Steve and I after the shit with the Accords went down, and suddenly we weren’t on the run anymore. We were fugitives, but she found us jobs, small missions that kept us occupied and allowed us to do good for people. We still felt like the Avengers, even if we couldn’t call ourselves that. Nat… she kept Steve and I sane. She got us to laugh, and eat, and even ignore the news sometimes. And I don’t know how she found the jobs, but we had one every week or two. God, she was good at her job. She was good at people. She cared so much about the whole world, and especially our family, and I don’t any of us noticed. I sure didn’t. I wish… we lost her, Riley. She sacrificed herself for us. And looking back, it wasn’t the first time. None of us would be here without her.”

A few rows down, a family of seven made their way past the gravesites. They were studying the names as they passed, clearly looking for one in particular. At the back of the pack a teenage boy pushed an elderly woman in a wheelchair that wasn’t designed to traverse grass. Even though the kid appeared breathless, he only pushed harder when the ground began to slope subtly upwards. 

“We stopped being fugitives when the end of the world came along. It was worse than New York. There was this… alien, I guess, named Thanos. He was from the planet Titan, and he wanted to cut the population of all living things in half to stop overpopulation and environmental damage. Great goals, terrible methods.”

The joke tasted like cardboard in his mouth. He took two gulps of his soda to wash it away. 

“We tried to stop him. I’d say we did our best, but if that was true I wouldn’t have - well, this is where it gets weird.”

The family of seven had finally stopped at a headstone. They were several dozen sites away, but Sam could see the grandmother shuffle in her chair, and then the teenage boy helped her to stand. She brought her fingers up - she was kissing them. And then she brushed them over the top of the headstone.

“I died, Riley.”

It was the first time he had said it out loud. A weight lifted off of his chest at the same time a lump formed in his throat. He kept his eyes on the grandmother and the way the boy never let her go.

“Thanos won. He gathered all six of the Infinity Stones. And with a single snap, he managed to wipe out half of all living things. It was random, and I was shit out of luck that day.” He took a moment to inhale and feel the air in his lungs. The sun was warm on his neck. The roses on the grave two spots over smelled lovely. The grass itched his ankles. He was here. “I don’t really remember it. I felt it, but I was so focused on moving forward that I didn’t realize what was happening until the ground rushed towards my face. I don’t think I hit it, though. I was gone before I could.”

His vision was blurring. The family was a cluster of indistinct colors now. He focused back on Riley’s headstone instead. The dates told him that it had been nearly eleven years since he had lost his best friend. 

“It felt like no time at all passed before I woke up. Resurrected, I guess, but I don’t… I don’t think it was a real death. I didn’t see you. And when I go for real I know your ass will be there to laugh at me for all of the stupid shit I’ve gotten into without you.”

Riley’s laugh echoed in his mind, and he managed another smile. If he were here now he would plopped down in the grass and say something light-hearted about not wasting tears on him. He would much rather Sam take a shot of bad whiskey in his honor. Or even better, take a joy ride with his wings and dump candy or stuffed animals into a park. He wouldn’t tease Sam for crying in general, though. Riley always understood the importance of healthy grieving.

Sam ran a hand over his face and took a swig of the now-warm soda.

“We lost Tony, too. Tony Stark, the big tech billionaire who gave up the massive profits he made selling his weapons and began investing in world peace. He made the final sacrifice to stop Thanos. He was a pain in the ass, but his heart was the strongest thing in him. Kind of ironic, I guess. Makes me wish I had gotten to know the man beneath the suit.”

Regret was not something Sam carried around, but he knew that the events of the recent years would be a dark shadow in his mind for a while. He wasn’t alone in that boat, which was a small comfort.

“You’d probably want to know that Barnes is finally safe. He died like me, but before that he was able to get the help he needed to get whatever Hydra did to him out of his head. He’s a free man now, and will actually be able to receive his due compensation from the military. He was technically a POW for seventy years. He may get on my nerves, but that man deserves credit for what he did with the Commandos, and for what he’s done since escaping Hydra. And then he deserves peace.”

The butterfly was back. It was likely a different one, but the pattern was nearly the same. It’s wings fluttered quickly as it fought for balance on the wreath, but then it stilled completely. With its wings laid flat, it was a wondrous thing. Sam wanted to take another drink, but he resisted so as not to disturb the butterfly. 

“That’s the gist of it,” he said eventually. “But that story isn’t the main reason I’m here. I recently had a job change, and I wanted you to be the first person I told.”

Sam tipped his backpack closer. He pulled out the magnetic forearm strap and set it on the ground before him as if handing it to Riley.

“Steve decided to take advantage of some time travel technology Stark invented, and he went back to live the life he always wanted. He got the girl. And he gave me his shield.”

He couldn’t help the smile that spread over his face now.

“I’m Captain America now, Riley. God, that sounds ridiculous. But it’s true. Steve told me that I was the best person for the job. I tried telling him he was wrong, but he wouldn’t listen. And I realized that he only thought I was the best for the job because he never got the chance to meet you.”

The butterfly was gone again, having gone to investigate the roses. Sam finished off his soda. When he opened Riley’s can it gave a satisfying hiss, and the sound continued as he poured it into the grass over Riley’s grave.

“You helped me to become a man worthy of being Captain America. You made me a better pilot, a better friend, a better son. I did good at the VA because of you, and now - now I get to do a lot more good. I’ll never be the Captain that Steve was, but the shield and the title will allow me to better protect the world and be a positive influence on this country. And wasn’t that the goal? When we joined the military, we just wanted to serve this nation and make the world a safer place. Perhaps there are easier ways, but this opportunity… I’m going to make you proud, Riley. So when I see you for real, you’ll laugh, but then you’ll clap me on the back and lead a toast in my name with a glass of your dad’s special scotch.”

Sam didn’t wipe away the tears on his cheeks this time. They felt good. The lump in his throat eased. As the grief worked its way out, he could feel it being replaced by the pride he talked about. By the motivation to do good, and to help others, and to help others do good. 

That’s what his life was about, as Captain America and as Sam Wilson.

His legs were tight as he stood, but as he stretched he noticed that he felt lighter than he had in weeks. He gathered the empty soda cans and put the forearm piece back in his bag. Once the pack was settled on his shoulders, he put his hand on Riley’s headstone.

“Keep resting easy, Rye. I can’t promise to be back soon, but I’m sure you’ll keep tabs on me along the way.” 

He hesitated before leaving. A glance to his right showed him that the family of seven was still there, holding onto each other as they huddled around a grave.

Sam pressed his fingertips to his lips before brushing them over Riley’s headstone.

“Thank you.”

As he made his way towards the exit, he heard distant singing, and a verse from “My Country ‘tis of Thee” reached his ears:

Let music swell the breeze,  
And ring from all the trees  
Sweet freedom's song.  
Let mortal tongues awake;  
Let all that breathe partake;  
Let rocks their silence break,  
The sound prolong.

Sam lifted his chin and straightened his shoulders. 

It was time for Captain America to get to work.


End file.
